


wanting to give (but not having enough)

by hlundqvists



Series: taking care of the boys [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Gen, M/M, New York Rangers, marc totally has a service kink okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 14:53:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2195985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlundqvists/pseuds/hlundqvists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It had felt natural for him to go from just casually staying up late at night to talk things out with one guy and then the next night to be fucking someone hard into the mattress, his hands gripping their hips tight enough to leave bruises that they begged him for.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Somehow it was just the natural progression.</i>
</p><p>Hank takes care of his boys. No matter what. But who is going to help him take care of himself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	wanting to give (but not having enough)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of a series that I have been giving quite a lot of thought about over the past few months. The basic plot point here is Hank is the daddy!dom of the team and he takes care of everyone; whatever their needs, he is there to give and help. 
> 
> There will be several different kinks explored throughout this series including daddy kink and BDSM. For the start, though, there's nothing very sexy. Sorry for that! I just wanted to get the basics set up for this series which is that Hank/Marc is the main relationship here BUT Hank does have sexual interactions with others and Marc is aware of that and consents to it. I'll expand more on their relationship in the next part. c:
> 
> So this is just the beginning of my first series and I hope people enjoy it!

"You know you don’t have to keep doing this, Hank."

Ryan’s got his head nestled on Hank’s chest, fingers clutching at the man’s shirt. It’s kind of funny how even as he says the words, he doesn’t let go or move away. He just stays pressed against the warmth that he’s grown used to having when he needs it.

Fingers suddenly tangle into his hair, rubbing lightly at his scalp and the touch is enough to make him almost fall asleep.

"I know."

He feels the rumble of the words in Hank’s chest more than he hears them and he knows from the tone that Hank doesn’t want to argue about this. Not now, not tonight.

Ryan doesn’t really blame him. The season hasn’t started off so well for the team — for Hank most of all.

It makes Ryan feel guilty for needing this. For coming to Hank in the middle of the night to be held and told that he’s still a good captain, that the team will still hold together with him leading them. He feels guilty for needing reassurances from Hank, instead of giving Hank the things that he most likely needs.

But Hank never turns any of the boys away. Not when they need him.

Ryan just wishes that he could give to Hank what Hank gives to all of them.

\- - -

It’s not as if Hank meant for this to happen. It just did.

His offers to all the boys of a shoulder to lean on and someone to talk to had finally been taken up by Marc and once Marc broke over that wall, the rest seemed to follow.

It had felt natural for him to go from just casually staying up late at night to talk things out with one guy and then the next night to be fucking someone hard into the mattress, his hands gripping their hips tight enough to leave bruises that they begged him for.

Somehow it was just the natural progression.

Hank was the main source of comfort for everyone; whatever they needed, they could go to him for. No judgements to be scared of.

If Hank could provide for his boys, he would.

There was no way he’d ever turn one of them away.

After all, they’re **_his boys_**.

\- - -

The start of the season isn’t Hank’s best. He knows he can do better, doesn’t understand why he isn’t and it feels far too early to be this close to the breaking point.

He hides it the best he can.

It wouldn’t be fair for him to worry his boys. They need to be able to come to him, to have their needs met and if he shows even the slightest hint of cracking then they’ll back off and he can’t— He doesn’t want that to happen. He doesn’t want them to deny themselves what they need to keep their heads clear and their focus on the game.

So Hank just grits his teeth and forces himself to start each practice with a smile and a few casual touches here and there to let all the boys know that they can still ask him to take care of them.

\- - -

Nearly two months into the season and Hank feels like he just might lose it soon. His game has been off. His overall performance not at the best it could be and he’s trying not to let himself drown within the guilt he’s feeling for letting the team down.

For letting his boys down.

How can he take care of them off the ice when he can’t even be everything they need on the ice?

He has to do something soon. He needs something to change.

It turns out that he doesn’t have to look very far.

The answer has always been near him, standing by and watching.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up, smiling as much as he can after the night’s loss.

"Hey, Marc."

Marc doesn’t respond at first. He just squeezes Hank’s shoulder and leans down to kiss Hank on the forehead before murmuring, “I need you tonight, okay?”

Hank nods and gives Marc a gentle pat on the hip.

"Yeah, okay. I’ll see you at my place. An hour?"

Marc nods his assent and moves away, stripping off his gear and heading for the showers.

\- - -

An hour later and Hank is home, dressed in some casual sleepwear and waiting for the knock on the door to let him know that Marc has arrived.

It comes precisely at the expected time.

He opens the door, smiling at Marc and steps aside to let him in.

They’ve done this so many times that it feels oddly natural. Marc’s really the only one who ever comes to Hank’s place. He’s never stopped too long to question that, a little scared of the reasons he might find to be an answer.

Marc just steps inside, hanging up his coat and lining his shoes up against the wall like he’s done so many times before and takes Hank’s hand, gently pulling him along to the bedroom.

Neither of them speaks until Marc pushes Hank down onto the bed, crawling on after him to straddle his waist.

"Marc…. What do you need?"

Marc’s hands are braced against Hank’s chest and he’s looking down at Hank with an expression that can’t really be described.

"I need you to be okay."

Worry. Worry is so clear and evident in Marc’s voice that Hank has to reach up to pull him down for a kiss.

"I _am_ okay.”

Marc’s fingers curl against Hank’s chest, head shaking and their noses bump together.

"No. No, Henke, you’re not. I can see it in your eyes after the games and… I don’t know what to do. You take care of everyone. I know you do. It’s not really a secret but— Hank, **_babe_** , who is taking care of _you_?”

He doesn’t know what it is that makes him break in that moment. The concern in Marc’s voice, the use of a pet name, or if it’s just what he’s been trying to deny to himself for so long that Marc is the one person that Hank knows he can’t hide anything from. Regardless of reason, Hank breaks and lets out a sob.

Marc’s reaction is instantaneous; rolling off of Hank to land on his back on the bed, pulling Hank with him and just wrapping both arms tightly around Hank’s waist.

Hank clings onto Marc, face buried against his neck, and lets everything out that he’s been holding in since the first puck drop of the season.

Marc doesn’t try to pull away or appear annoyed at this turn of events. He just tightens his hold and rubs a hand soothingly along Hank’s back and murmurs quietly into his ear; tells him that it’s going to be okay, that the team isn’t disappointed in him, reassurances that no one blames Hank for being off his game and that the boys all know that they still have Hank — they still have their _daddy_ , they still have their Hank — to come to if they need him in whatever way they may need him.

Hank doesn’t pull away and Marc doesn’t try to push him away.

They end up falling asleep together.

It’s the first time in a long time that Hank falls asleep being the one held.

\- - -

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s to the smell of coffee and a missing warmth from the bed. 

Hank blinks a few times before stretching, glancing at the clock and feels a slight sense of relief at seeing that there’s plenty of time to shower and eat and talk to Marc about what happened last night before they have to get to practice.

He gets up and goes to use the bathroom, splashing some water on his face and combing fingers through his hair before he heads out to the kitchen.

Marc is there, like he thought he’d be, fiddling with the stove and making some sort of omelette in a large pan. 

Hank walks over to him, places a hand on his back and leans in — and up a little — to kiss his cheek.

"Good morning."

A smile blossoms on Marc’s face and he turns to look at Hank, leaning in to kiss him fully on the lips.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Hank just laughs and pinches Marc’s ass, grinning broadly at the yelp he gets in return and goes to sit at the table and wait for the food to be ready.

It occurs to him — after Marc has split the omelette and poured out coffee for them both and brought it over to the table — that this shouldn’t feel so natural. It shouldn’t feel so right, but it does.

Hank stretches his legs out, ankles knocking against Marc’s under the table and just watches him eat.

They sit in silence for a while before Marc huffs out a breath and asks around a mouthful of egg, “What are you staring at me for?”

Hank tuts at him.

"Don’t speak with your mouth full. That’s rude."

Somehow the scolding actually makes Marc look sheepish and he bows his head, murmuring an apology before finishing off his meal.

Hank just doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t understand why he feels such affection for Marc or why it makes him feel good that even after breaking down on him last night Marc still views him as the dominant one and listens.

Maybe it’s just a lot simpler than Hank thinks it is.

Maybe it’s just how he and Marc work.

As if he can sense the thoughts that brewing in Hank’s mind, Marc stands and moves over to him, quickly pushing his way onto Hank’s lap to straddle him, arms laced around his neck.

"Stop thinking so much. It’s too early for that."

Hank curls his hands loosely against Marc’s hips, thumbs moving to slip under the hem of Marc’s shirt to brush against skin.

"I just—" He leans in to press a searing kiss to Marc’s lips, lingering there before pulling back to speak again. "I don’t understand what this is."

Marc gives a fond smile, clutching at the collar of Hank’s shirt.

"This is whatever you want it to be. I just….. I kind of love you, Hank. I want to give you what you need and I know that you’ll always give me what I need."

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Suddenly it all makes sense and Hank is pulling Marc in for another firm kiss, licking into his mouth and growling lightly as Marc rocks his hips down.

"I love you, too."

They’re both a little breathless, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

Marc knocks his forehead against Hank’s, smiling brightly.

"I know. So let me take care of you when you need it. I _want_ to take care of you. I _need_ to take care of you. You understand that?”

Hank nods, hands squeezing Marc’s hips lightly.

"You know that I— I’m still— The boys. I need to take care of them. Some of them…. they need me in more ways than others."

Marc just smiles and kisses Hank softly.

"I know, Hank. I’m one of them."

It feels so surreal. All of this is just so surreal. Hank thinks he might still be dreaming.

"Okay."

He kisses Marc again. And again, just for good measure.

He opens his mouth, ready to say more, but he’s stopped by Marc lifting a finger to his lips to shush him.

"I know that you need to take care of the boys. I do. And I know the ways that some of them need you but I…. I’m the only one who gets to be with you like this. Here. In your apartment." It’s only now that a hint of uncertainty sounds in Marc’s voice. "Right?"

"Yeah," Hank speaks quietly, leaning in to brush his lips against Marc’s, "Yeah. You’re—- I love you. I don’t…. I don’t have that with anyone else."

Those few words appear to be enough to soothe Marc and Hank feels somewhat amazed by that; that those few words are enough, that Marc trusts him that much to believe in his words. (Not that they aren’t true because they _are_.)

He’s never felt worthy of the trust that others put in him. Especially from the boys.

But maybe he’ll start to feel that worth. Maybe by having Marc with him in this way — this way that he doesn’t have with anyone else, this way that is special to just _them_ — he’ll really start to believe in the worth others believe he has.

Maybe he’ll start to feel worthy of the titles others give him. Especially those given to him by his boys.

_Henke. Daddy. Sir._

No matter what he believes about himself, he’ll always do his very best to give his boys exactly what they need. Whatever it may be.

He’ll give them everything.

 ** _Everything_**.


End file.
